Authors: Lynda La Plante
Dewhurst opened the door to Sir Charles’ rooms, and stiffly enquired if she had an appointment. Behind him Ed Meadows bellowed, ‘Who is it?’
Sir Charles was sitting at a small desk. There was a big fire in the grate and there were so many doors leading off the main room that for a moment Evelyne thought she had got confused, perhaps he lived at the hotel, surely he wouldn’t have all this space just for one person? He fixed his monocle into his left eye and looked at Evelyne. ‘Ah, yes, now what can I do for you?’
Evelyne’s nerve almost deserted her, but she blurted it out as fast as she could. Had they been to the Freedom Stubbs fight? She was a friend of his and he was in prison, but he wasn’t guilty and she wondered if they could advise her what she could do. Her knees buckled slightly as she finished, she could feel the flush creeping up her cheeks.
Sir Charles leaned back in his chair and his monocle popped out. He swung it on the end of the black ribbon round his neck.
‘Dewhurst, bring the young lady in. I’m sorry, please forgive me, I didn’t catch your name …? Ah, Evelyne, yes, yes of course, a drink, dear? What would you care for?’
Evelyne said sherry because it was the first thing that came into her head, and Dewhurst placed a chair for her close to the desk and backed out of the room. Ed Meadows moved to stand behind Sir Charles, and asked Evelyne what she knew of the gypsy and how was she involved. ‘They say he’s killed four lads and you say different, that right?’
Sitting in the cosy, firelit room, Evelyne told them what she knew, took them right back to the first time when she had seen Freedom fight Dai ‘Hammer’ Thomas. She was taken aback because Ed Meadows kept interrupting her, asking all sorts of questions about other fights she knew of, had she seen him fight anywhere else in Wales? Did she know about the knockout in the ring the other night? Sir Charles eventually put his hand on Ed’s arm and, looking directly at Evelyne and speaking very slowly, asked again why, exactly why, she had come to see him.
‘Because he’s innocent and I can prove it. I’ve offered to go into court, and I just don’t think they’re going to pay any attention to what I have to say, but I know he didn’t do those murders.’
Sir Charles listened intently to Evelyne’s story, then excused himself, leaving her alone with Ed.
‘ ‘E’s a bit of a toff, but ‘e’s a real gent, know what I mean, a true blue, an’ take it from me I know what I’m talkin’ about, nothin’ he don’t know about the game, he’s even bin to America, United States of America, you know, oh yeah, ‘is Lordship’s a real pro, was a fighter ‘imself, see.’
They both turned to the closed doors, and Ed, without stopping except to swallow gulps of his frothing black Guinness, continued. ‘Nineteen-o-eight there was the Aussie fella, Jack Johnson, Gawd almighty what a fighter ‘e was, saw that big’un with Jim Jefferson, nineteenten, July fourth, you heard of the Great White Hope? I was there for that wiv ‘im, ‘e took us both over. But yer fighter knockin’ ‘em all into the corners is Dempsey, the man’s a joy ter watch, a joy ter watch, I was there, an’ guess who was sittin’ not two rows in front of me? Special cordoned-off area - Ethel Barrymore, yes, on my life Ethel Barrymore, the famous actress, was watching Dempsey fight, bloody marvellous … pardon the language, miss.’
Behind closed doors Sir Charles gave quiet instructions for Dewhurst to go down to reception and ask about this Miss Jones, find out how long she’d been staying, et cetera. When he returned to the drawing room Ed beamed at him. ‘My God, this gel knows about fighting, your Lordship.’
Evelyne hadn’t actually said a word, but she smiled, looking into her sherry glass. Sir Charles replaced his monocle and with his long fingers he drummed on the top of the inlaid writing desk. ‘Tell me, dearie, this Freedom fella, what is your relationship with him?’
She placed the glass on top of the desk and sat up very straight. ‘There is no relationship, sir, not even a friendship, I simply do not want to see an innocent man hang.’
She could feel Sir Charles’ eyes carefully noting everything about her from the top of her hair to the scuffed shoes. She was glad Miss Freda had altered her clothes, at least she looked respectable, if not fashionable.
‘You say you are prepared to go into the witness box? He is a Romany gypsy, isn’t he?’
Evelyne nodded, bit her lip. She knew he was trying to imply that there was something between the two of them, and it made her angry.
‘I don’t wish to sound rude, dearie, but, well, you don’t look, if you will excuse my saying so, you don’t really look like most of the clientele in this establishment. I was wondering if you will excuse my rudeness for asking, how you are able to stay at the Grand?’
Evelyne stood up sharply, her hands gripped at her sides, her face taut. ‘It is no business of yours, but I was left a legacy, and I am quite able to afford the price of this “establishment”. I may not look like the so-called “ladies” I’ve seen parading around the lobby, but I wouldn’t care to dress like them anyway, not that my legacy would run to that height of fashion. I have no other motive but to help a man whom I believe is innocent. There is nothing sexual about my friendship with him, I am only interested in justice. I am sorry to have wasted your time but I took you to be a gentleman who could possibly guide me in what I should do. I can see I was wrong, excuse me.’
Ed Meadows rose to stop her, but Sir Charles laid his elegant hand on Ed’s arm again. Evelyne reached the door, turned and thanked Sir Charles for the sherry and then turned abruptly and walked out.
‘Why d’yer behave like that, sir? I fink she was a true ‘un moment I hear her givin’ that snotty lift-boy a bollockin’.’
Sir Charles smiled, raised his whisky glass. ‘On the contrary, I would say she’s magnificent, she’s a tigress, Ed m’boy, but we have to be very sure, I’d say that gel will make a first-class witness, and from what I’ve read to date the boy will most certainly need that, plus a lot more. Go and check on a chap called Smethurst, he’s a lawyer, we’ll need the best there is - or the best Cardiff can provide.’
From the hotel lobby, Ed Meadows asked if Miss Jones would care to have dinner with him, as Sir Charles had suggested it. Evelyne said she had a previous engagement and Ed apologized for disturbing her, but thought he should mention to her that His Lordship had already set the wheels in motion. He was hiring a lawyer first thing in the morning to act on behalf of Freedom Stubbs. He was going to pay a visit to the prison himself, and Ed added that he hoped she was not affronted by his invitation to dinner. Evelyne felt awful and would have liked to change her mind, but she knew she had nothing suitable to wear so she thanked Ed again and said perhaps another time.
Miss Freda had taken Evelyne at her word. She had been round the second-hand shops, run-down tailor’s shops, bespoke tailor’s, pawn shops. With an eagle eye for a bargain she bartered and argued and scrimped, and saved a penny here, twopence there. There was a dreadful pink satin ballgown that she could pull the beads from and hand-stitch instead round the collar of a fawn suit, the pinkish beads setting off the fawn of the jacket.
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Accustomed to rising early, Evelyne was sitting on the window-seat with her legs curled beneath her when Freda arrived at seven-fifteen. Poor Freda looked pale, with deep circles beneath her eyes, but she had brought four garments, all finished down to the buttons. She was able to double her money on each item, but she didn’t feel she was cheating Evelyne, she had cut and sewn all night long and she would defy anyone to tell what or whose they had once been.
Freda hid in the bathroom when Evelyne called down for some coffee to be sent up to suite twenty-seven, and stayed there until the waiter delivered the steaming pots.
They discussed Evelyne’s outfits and talked about what sort of hat she needed to go with each. Evelyne counted out the shillings and pennies, double-checked it and handed the money to Freda, then she went into the bathroom to brush her hair. Returning to the bedroom she found Freda curled up like a dormouse on the unmade bed, so deeply asleep, she didn’t even stir when Evelyne slipped the eiderdown round her tiny shoulders.
The rest of the day was spent in shopping and carefully choosing material and one pair of shoes that would be suitable for all the outfits.
Ed Meadows was waiting in the lobby when Evelyne got back, and he rushed her up to Sir Charles’ suite.
Freedom Stubbs had turned down Sir Charles’ offer to take over his case, refusing point-blank, although thanking Sir Charles for his time and obvious expense. Sir Charles had pulled many strings and had his motorcar waiting to take Evelyne to the jail. She must talk to him, tell him he was being foolish and would hang for it unless he accepted their offer.
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***
Ed Meadows sat in the front of the car with the chauffeur, and gave Evelyne details of the offer, making it sound simple and, of course, to Freedom’s advantage. Sir Charles wanted Freedom to sign a contract to be under his sole management.
‘We reckon he could be a contender, see Evie, me and the guv’nor want to train ‘im, like, get ‘im ready. It’s a fair contract, all the money ‘e laid out for the court case, legal fees and what ‘ave you, would be comin’ out of whatever ‘e’d earn as a boxer.’
Evelyne, clutching the contract, was led through the jail to the visiting room. This time the prison officers were cordial and called her ‘ma’am’. Freedom was brought into the small room in handcuffs, but he had bathed and shaved. His hair was shining, and was braided down his neck. He sat, head bowed, opposite her, and the officer told Evelyne quietly that she could stay as long as she wanted.
One officer was left on duty inside the room, as usual, and another outside the door, but this time the room was not locked.
‘Well, what have you got to say for yourself, Freedom? You know how much trouble I’ve been to, and Sir Charles, you can’t say no, you must be out of your mind.’
Freedom looked down at his hands and pursed his lips. Evelyne leaned over and whispered that no one was concerned about anyone else, nothing had been mentioned about anyone else’s involvement, no names. All they were interested in was his innocence or guilt.
‘You are innocent, I know it, I can stand up and prove it in Willie’s case, but you’ll have to say where you were on the days when the other lads were killed.’
Freedom shifted his weight but still he would not
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look up and meet her eyes. He remained silent, infuriating Evelyne.
‘Sir Charles Wheeler’s no ordinary man, he can help you in your boxing, all you’ve got to do is sign this contract an’ he’ll make you a contender.’ . Having misunderstood what Ed Meadows had said, Evelyne had no idea what ‘contender’ meant. Freedom smiled, still with his head down, his eyes averted.
‘You sign this and he’ll take all the court costs out of what he’s agreed to pay you. It’s a chance for you, you can’t throw it away.’
Still he said nothing, and she tried cajoling and various other approaches.
‘Do you not want to box, is that it?’
Freedom lifted his head and stared at her, then turned to face the prison officer. ‘Aye, I want that, I just don’t want no one else to be involved.’
She knew he was thinking of Rawnie and Jesse, and she couldn’t believe it. Her temper got the better of her. ‘You are a fool, you know that, a stubborn fool, I don’t know why I’m wasting my breath on you!’ ‘
‘And I don’t know why, you tell me, I don’t know why I deserve this, no one has ever fought for me before, why you, what do you want?’
‘Because you’re innocent, that’s why, I’d do it for any man who was about to hang when I knew he shouldn’t.’
She laid out the contract and read down the detailed, neatly typed pages. She turned it over, Sir Charles was guaranteeing Freedom a wage, and a fair one as far as she could see.
‘Is there something here you don’t agree with, is it too long a contract, is that it?’
Freedom rubbed his head, glanced at the attentive
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prison officer and then said in a barely audible voice, ‘I can’t read, I don’t read.’
Evelyne could see his embarrassment, and she got up to ask the officer if she could move her chair round the table to discuss the contract with the prisoner.
They sat close and she whispered each clause of the contract, her finger tracing the lines. He sat, head bent, staring intently at the pages.
‘He promises to give you accommodation at his estate outside London for the time you will be training until the time you desire to find your own establishment. These costs will be deducted from your wages together with the costs this case will incur. He also wants you to have a suit ordered for the trial, and …’ Evelyne looked at him, his face close enough for her to touch. He was not paying any attention to the contract but looking at her closely, scrutinizing her face. She turned back to the papers, blushed, coughed, and started again.
‘Clause four, this one down here, says you will be contracted to Sir Charles for five years, after that time you will be free either to renew your contract with him or not, as you choose. This contract is valid for all parts of the world.’ As she turned the page her hand brushed against his, and he moved his handcuffed wrists further way.
‘He, Sir Charles, that is, has the right to bring all contractual obligations here assigned to termination at any date he so wishes.’
She opened her bag, and the officer moved a step into the room. She held up a pen, then looked at Freedom. ‘You going to sign it? You have to, it’s the only chance you have, and I think it’s a pretty fair deal.’ Freedom nodded, and with her hand guiding his he signed his initials, ‘F.S.’
Evelyne promptly folded the contract and slipped it
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into her handbag. Freedom looked at her with a strange expression, then he looked away and kept his voice low as he said, ‘You gimme your word they’ll not try to bring in my friends.’
Evelyne snapped her bag shut and nodded her head. ‘You have my word, and I want yours that you’ll give Sir Charles any information not concerning your friends that’ll help you, will you promise me that?’